Adulthood
by angellwings
Summary: Natella. Ella is having a breakdown about her impending college graduation.


**A/N: **So, most of this fic is really _me_ ranting about college graduation and the stress of real life that's currently weighing me down. I decided to channel one of my breakdowns into a fic as a therapy thing. Anyway, maybe someone out there will enjoy it and relate.

Happy Reading!

angellwings

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><p>Adulthood<p>

by angellwings

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><p>I was crying. I was sitting in my bedroom in my student apartment…crying. Not because some dumb male broke my heart or because someone close to me had passed away. No, that would be something that would heal. Something that I know would pass (for the most part.) It would be too easy to be crying over something like that.<p>

I was crying because I was nine days away from graduating from college and I had no job, no interviews lined up, and absolutely _no_ plans. My impending Fashion Design degree was starting to feel pointless like money someone flushed down the toilet. I had four years of college loans and yet the degree that I was told would make my life better appeared to be doing _nothing_.

And the closer I got to graduation the more this fear spread through me. It formed this knot in the bottom of my stomach and it kept growing with each day. I was afraid I was going to end up in some dead end _retail _job, living in my old bedroom in my parent's house, and living a permanently unsatisfying life. I was afraid of living paycheck to paycheck and seeing my mother look at me like her expectations for the "better life" she'd always wanted me to have would _never_ happen.

I blamed my high school guidance counselors for this, and maybe my parents a bit too. My whole life my elders had preached "go to college", "get a degree", and "further your education." These sermons always presented college as this golden ticket to my perfect picturesque life. I was beginning to realize that all of this talk was pure puffery. In the real world the degree alone isn't enough. You need the experience to back it up, and for an _almost_ college graduate that made getting a job _difficult_. Every ignored job application was like a slap in the face to the illusions I'd grown up with.

You know in high school when people older than you would say "You're gonna miss this someday." and you would, of course, scoff and brush it aside? Yeah, well, I actually really missed high school at that moment. It was simple and mindless and your adult life was going to be whatever you imagined it to be. The possibilities were endless. All I wanted back then was to be done with school altogether and settled into a career. Settled meaning blissfully happy and fulfilled. And now that the "done with school" part was upon me and there was no "settling" in sight...I wanted high school back.

Unbelievable, right? I wanted back what most people considered to be the most emotionally scarring period of a young person's life. If only because I knew where I was going. I had a plan. Finish high school, go to college, and be the perfect, high achieving, and poised professional. After a few years at my perfect job, I would meet the man of my dreams, get married, have the typical two kids, and adopt a dog. We would buy a house, send our kids to the best schools, and it would all be perfect.

So far I've finished high school and _nearly_ finished college. The rest of my plan seems to be floating further and further away from me. No one ever talks about how difficult graduating college really is. They never tell you about that awkward transitional period where uncertainty is _all_ you know day in and day out. They never talk about the expectations people put on you when they finally receive your graduation announcement in the mail. Suddenly the number one question people ask is "So, you're almost done with school, huh? Are you excited?" And the second most frequent question is "How are the job applications coming?"

And automatically you respond with, "I'm very excited. So ready to be finished with papers and studying." And, "As good as they can be I guess. Just gotta keep plugging away." That's as honest as I would ever dare to be when presented with those questions. I couldn't tell them how I really felt. If I did that I'd be screaming, "No, I am not excited! Why would I be? I have to be an _adult_ now!" And, "Well, I have _no_ interviews lined up and I have submitted so many applications that I feel like I have them coming out of my ears!"

I doubt anyone would appreciate those responses. Especially not my family. We all have a habit of keeping up the illusion of perfect, and I'm not talking about my immediate family. I'm talking about my extended family. We're all always happy and healthy and well on our way to great things…even when we're not.

And even more annoying than this "pretend to be perfect" mantra is the other mantra I kept hearing; "What's meant to be will be." I hated that phrase. I mean, sure I believed it, but at the moment it didn't really make me feel any better. I would have appreciated at least a small hint of whatever it was that was "meant to be." That would have helped.

There was a sudden knock on my door. I rubbed my eyes furiously and sniffled before I could bring myself to speak.

"C—coming!"

I grabbed a tissue out of the box on my nightstand and quickly blew my nose before grabbing another one and wiping my eyes. I swallowed back more tears and took a deep breath before I unlocked my bedroom door and opened it. I groaned when I saw the person on the other side. He would know. He would know I'd been crying. Somehow he _always_ knew when I had a breakdown. No matter how well I tried to hide it.

"Hey," Nate said brightly as he held up a plain wide black book. "I came by to bring back your—have you been _crying_?"

"N-no," I said with a soggy sniffle. "I don't have anything to cry about."

One eyebrow rose as he challenged my statement silently. I huffed and snatched the black book out of his hands.

"Thanks for bringing back my portfolio. I'm really not sure why you wanted to look at it in the first place. It's just a bunch of dumb, worthless, sketches and photographs," I said with a discouraged sigh.

"Alright," Nate said sternly as he stepped into my room and closed the door behind him. "What's going on, Ella? Why are your eyes red and puffy? And _why_ are you suddenly dumping on your own portfolio?"

"Nothing is going on," I lied. "I'm fine."

He rolled his eyes and stared at me as if he could very clearly see completely through me. I felt my jaw tighten and my breathing quicken as I worked hard not to cry again. Nate kept his no-nonsense look trained on me, and I could feel myself weaken underneath it.

"I—I…"

"Yes?" Nate asked pointedly.

"God, you are so lucky you've had a career since you were like fourteen!"

He blinked and his brow furrowed. "Huh?"

"You don't have to have a resume, or a portfolio, or apply for jobs, and _wait_ for the interview that will _never_ come. You're already established and successful. You have an _income_, and a _house_. Oh God, you have a _house_. Not an out of date _student apartment_, but an actual _house_. Ugh! You never had to go through college or this massive uncertainty that is _always_ hovering over _me_," I explained as I began to pace in front of him. "Do you _know_ how jealous I am? I have _nothing_. No plans. Not. A. Thing."

"Ella—"

"My degree is going to be completely useless. If this keeps on like this I'm going to end up working _retail_, Nate. Retail! I didn't go to college so I could end up working at the local galleria!"

"You're not gonna end up working retail, Ells," He said as he smiled at me in amusement.

"You don't know that!"

"Ella, you don't know _anything_ that's coming. You can't just assume you're going to fail before you even really begin," Nate said with a chuckle. "That's not logical."

"Logical?" I asked him in an outraged tone. "When have I _ever_ been logical? That's _your_ job. Not mine."

He smiled warmly at me. "You know, it's funny that we're both highly creative people and yet we think about things completely differently."

I paused in my pacing and stared at him. Was there a reason he was comparing us?

His warm smile faltered and he cleared his throat. "It's just…I mean we kind of balance each other out, don't you think?"

I blinked and nodded slowly. "I—I guess." What did that have to do with anything?

"Look, Ells," He said as he placed his hands on her shoulders. "Just breathe, okay? Take deep calming breaths. You'll be fine. Everything will work out. You'll see."

"Blind optimistic faith is just as illogical as my blind pessimism," I told him with a sigh and a bored gaze.

His eyes widened and he looked impressed. He nodded. "You're right. It is. I'm sorry. But you've gotta cut me some slack here. I'm used to being the pessimist not the optimist. You've switched roles on me."

I blushed in embarrassment. It was possible I was being dramatic about this. I whined pathetically and sat down on the edge of my bed. "I'm sorry. None of this is your fault and I shouldn't be taking it out on you. I'm just…I'm frustrated and…and—"

"Scared?" Nate asked knowingly.

"Terrified, actually," I told him with a sigh.

He sat down beside of me and took my hand. "Ella, everything will eventually be okay. I don't know when, but sooner or later I can assure you things will work out. It may not be what you've always imagined, but I seriously doubt your college education will _ever_ be a waste."

"Ugh," I said with a sigh as I brought my free hand to my forehead. I felt like I was going to be sick. If I wasn't distracted by my current breakdown I would have been more than a little excited about Nate's finger's being laced through mine. Nate must have noticed my suddenly pale face. He let go of my hand and then wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

"Ella, breathe. Focus on graduation first _then_ worry about the job thing," Nate told her softly. "Just take on one thing at a time." He reached up and removed my hand from my forehead. "You're very talented. Something will work out for you."

"That sounds like blind optimism again."

He rolled his eyes at me. "No, that's actually a rational statement. You _have_ talent. That's clear. People as talented as you don't get overlooked. That's something I know from experience. Believe me, someone will see _you_ and all of your potential."

I bit my bottom lip and glanced at him hesitantly. "Do I have permission to say 'I told you so' if you're wrong?"

He smirked at me in amusement. "Sure, but you should know I'm rarely ever wrong."

I couldn't suppress a chuckle at the cocky look on his face. I sighed and shook my head at him. "We'll see about that."

He gave me a stern glance. "Stop betting against yourself. I've _seen_ your portfolio, Ells, remember? I know how good it is."

Something flashed in his eyes like he knew something I didn't. I gave him a questioning glance as he stood up and dragged me to the door.

"C'mon, let's get out of here," Nate said. "I'll take you to dinner or something. You need to get out and think about something else."

I dug my heels into the carpet and forced him to a stop. He turned and looked at me expectantly.

"You know," I said suspiciously. "You never told me _why_ you wanted my portfolio."

"Um, I wanted…to show it to some people."

I quirked an eyebrow at him. "What people?"

"The wardrobe department of our record company people," Nate said quietly. "They have an opening and I thought…I thought it might be perfect for you."

I bit my lip and smiled warmly at him. "Really?"

He gulped and his brow furrowed. "But…I—I wasn't going to tell you about it. I didn't want to get your hopes up."

I bit my bottom lip worriedly. "They didn't like it, did they?"

His eyes widened. "No! No, they did. It's just…they're really looking for someone with a bit more experience. They liked your work but they need to talk to the other more experienced applicants first. I'm sorry, Ells. I…thought I would try and help, but…I guess I didn't really."

I should've been disappointed, but I wasn't. I was caught up in how sweet he was. I smiled brightly at him. Sure, it hadn't worked out, but he had tried. He had faith that I could do it. He'd put his own reputation on the line to vouch for _me_.

"But that couldn't have taken more than a day," I pointed out. "You had my portfolio for three days."

He blushed. Nate actually blushed. He rarely ever blushed. "Your portfolio is _very_ good, Ella. It's…_you_. I can see you in all of those designs. I felt like…I felt like I was seeing a side of you I'd never seen before. It was like I was getting to know you all over again. I just couldn't stop looking through it. I didn't want to stop looking through it."

"But?" I asked with a smile.

"I thought you'd eventually need it back for interviews and things. I couldn't keep it forever," Nate admitted as he looked away from me.

I slowly moved my hand up his arm. He sucked in a breath at the light contact and his eyes snapped up to meet mine. I rested my hand on his shoulder and then brought my other hand up and placed it on the back of his neck. I hesitated a moment, but sucked in a nervous breath and smiled flirtatiously at him. I knew I was hearing his words correctly. Whether he realized it or not, his meaning was very clear.

"Ella?" He asked with a gulp. "What are you doing?"

"Well, Nathaniel, you can't keep my portfolio forever, but no one said you couldn't keep _me_ forever did they?"

He smirked at me. "No, they didn't."

I felt his arms wrap around my waist. He pulled me closer, and I smiled at him. "If you want to get to know me you don't need my portfolio. There are other things that could take care of that."

"Like what?" He asked.

"Oh, I don't know…maybe a date?" I suggested playfully.

He quirked a brow at me and chuckled. "Maybe. We do both happen to be free tonight. A date would be awfully convenient."

I chuckled. "It certainly would."

He pulled away and laced his fingers through mine. "Alright then, let's get out of here."

I paused in the door way of my apartment and placed a soft slow kiss on his lips. I pulled away and he moved to lean back down, but I quickly placed a hand on his chest to stop him. "Ah, no. Date first, more kissing later."

Nate sighed and glared at me playfully. "Fine, but _believe_ me I'll be holding you to that."


End file.
